


Homes, families (and fathers)

by Fleur_de_Violette



Series: Whumptober (more like hurt/comfortober-november-december) 2020 [16]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt Stephanie Brown, Hurt/Comfort, More comfort than hurt, Steph is part of the batfam but she has a hard time realizing it, Stephanie Brown Needs a Hug, Whumptober 2020, reluctant bedrest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29875542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fleur_de_Violette/pseuds/Fleur_de_Violette
Summary: All it took was a bullet for Stephanie to end up stuck in a bed in the Wayne manor. In all fairness, she hadn’t just “taken a bullet”; she’d taken a bullet for Bruce.It was ridiculous. The manor wasn’t her home (except, it kind of was), its inhabitants weren’t her family (except, they kind of were), and Bruce wasn’t her father (except…)Whumptober day 29 – reluctant bedrest
Relationships: Stephanie Brown & Everyone
Series: Whumptober (more like hurt/comfortober-november-december) 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984960
Comments: 2
Kudos: 80





	Homes, families (and fathers)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I am alive and I’m still doing whumptober. Sorry for the long month without updating, but here it is. At this rate I might not finish whumptober 2020 until October 2021, but I’m not ready to give up, no matter how long it takes!
> 
> I love Steph, and I hope my story is giving her justice. Enjoy!

Steph didn’t know what the big issue was. 

Sure, she got shot, but it was just a flesh wound, the bullet hadn’t hit anything vital, and with little magic from Alfred and Leslie and some painkillers, she would be on her merry way to the rest of her life.

But apparently, destiny (embodied by none other than Bruce Wayne) had decided otherwise. And she was stuck in a guest room in Wayne manor. Well, officially it was a guest room. Technically, considering the number of nights she spent in the manor, it was more or less her room. She tried not to think about it too much. 

By “stuck in the room” she meant that every time she tried to leave it, even a little, some inhabitant of the manor would put her right back in it. And why were there so many people in the manor? Half of them didn’t even live there. Why was Barbara in the manor so often? Hell, why was _Jason_? 

On one hand, she wasn’t really complaining. She had company, entertainment, and Alfred’s food. On the other hand, she felt like she was trapped in the manor, like a prisoner. She knew, despite all the jokes she made on being kidnapped by the Waynes, it wasn’t true. But it still felt like it. 

Any protest about missing classes had been met with a laptop, video of her classes, and assurance that Alfred would help her if needed, and if he couldn’t, Bruce would hire a personal tutor. Any attempt to do vigilantism, even from the safety of the Batcomputer, had been stopped.

Of course, she knew why Bruce was so worried and attentive. She hadn’t just taken a bullet. She’d taken a bullet _for him_. 

She didn’t really think before acting (that was an issue for her, thinking before acting). Batman was in danger, Batgirl stepped in and she ended up being shot. The rest was blurry; but, in her defense, it was hard to track with a bleeding bullet wound on her side. 

Anyway, next thing she knew she was waking up in the cave infirmary, and then, she was given a room with firm orders to rest and heal. And her caretakers wouldn’t let her leave her bed. 

Case in point, she was currently being cowed back to her room after three steps on the outside. She just wanted to go to the kitchen for a snack, and suddenly, Cass had appeared out of nowhere, glaring her into going back to bed. 

The Batglare, she could fight. The Black-Batglare, she couldn’t. She could still pout, so she did. 

“Be happy,” ordered Cass as they entered the room. She showed a bag that was hidden behind her. “Sneaked it in,” she explained. 

Steph looked at the bag and immediately felt a smile on her face. It was waffles. From her favorite bakery, no less. 

“Cass, did anyone already tell you you’re amazing today? Because you are.”

She reached for the bag, only to have it moved from under her hand. She whined. 

“Waffles are for the ones who rest,” reprimanded Cass. “Not for the ones who wander around.”

Steph made a face. “Come on, I’ll stay in bed, I promise. I was just so bored. You can stay with me if you want. I would like that, actually.” 

Cass sat cross legged on the bed and started unpacking the waffles. Steph took that as a yes. 

“I don’t see why you are all so annoying with me not leaving this room, by the way. I was just going to the kitchen.” 

Cass let a pout on her face, Steph wanted to poke her cheek and force her to smile. “You’re hurt. You rest,” she said. 

Steph sighed. “How hypocritical. Like you never do unreasonable things when you’re injured.”

Cass seemed very interested by her food, all of a sudden. “It’s different. I’m strong.” 

“Oh, so you think I’m weak?” asked Steph. She knew it was unfair. Blaming Cass for her poor choices of words was a low blow, considering how much her friend still struggled to speak. But she couldn’t help it.

Cass’s face twisted in pain and frustration with herself and Steph regretted her words immediately. “You’re strong. It’s just… different. We’re strong differently.”

Steph took her friend’s hand. For all she was silent and expressionless in combat, Cass was an open book when she was at ease. No need for special skills to read her body language. Right now, she was scared she’d hurt Steph, and annoyed with herself. 

“I know what you mean. I’m sorry I got angry. It’s just… I’m going stir crazy here. And I can’t let you say things like that. You feel bad when I’m injured? Well, how do you think I feel when you get injured?” When she didn’t get an answer, she added, “But we can’t help it. It’s part of the job. The job we’re both strong enough to do.” 

Cass smiled. Good. “You protected Dad,” she said, matter-of-factly. 

Steph felt her cheek burn. She didn’t comment on the fact that her friend used “Dad” and not “my dad”.

They ate in silence after that, only to be interrupted by Cass’s phone vibrating. “Harper,” she explained as she took the device and played the video that had been sent to her. A hip-hop dancer was performing on the screen.

“Not your usual style,” commented Steph. 

Cass nodded. “I like what she says,” she explained. It wasn’t about the lyrics of the background song and they both knew it.

Hip-hop wasn’t the most stereotypical thing to fall asleep to, but Steph found herself relaxing, her eyes closing. She told herself it was the painkillers. The fact that she felt safe with Cass around couldn’t hurt either.

When she woke up, Cass was gone, but Jason was at the door. “Hi there, fellow dead Robin.” 

Steph made a face. “More like dead _bored_.”

Jason laughed, shaking a book he had in his hand. “Brought you a book.” 

Stephanie took the offered good, frowning.

“Hey, it’s good,” defended Jason. Steph didn’t doubt it, but books and movies were starting to get boring. She needed to move. Unfortunately, that was the one thing she wasn’t allowed to do.

“Don’t blame the old man, he’s just worried,” the older man added. 

Stephanie thought she heard wrong for a second. “Are you defending Bruce?”

Jason put his hands in the air. “Hey, it’s not easy having to bring someone bleeding from a gunshot wound. Hell, I know I freaked out when he walked into the cave with you in his arms.” 

“Were you worried? About me?” Stephanie smiled. It was too good to let it pass. “Big bad Jason Todd was worried about me?” she teased. “Is that why you’re always in the manor? Because you’re worried about me?” 

She could see red on his cheeks and this was so much more fun than everything she got to do these past few days. 

“Shut up,” he said, “This is my house as much as yours.” 

He seemed to realize what he was saying the moment he said it. Stephanie only grinned more. Whatever he’d just said about her, it meant even more about him. 

“Oh, I love this conversation,” she said. “Do you want to stay and say other embarrassing things? Because it makes me really happy.” 

A pair of rolled socks from the bag of clothes Tim had brought her on the first day of her stay was thrown at her face. 

“Read your book,” Jason said before leaving. 

“Why so much violence? Don’t you want to be honest with your feelings?”

She got no answer. Sighing, she resigned herself to read the book she was just given. 

She was a few chapters in when Damian entered the room, sketchbook and pencils in his hands. 

“I need calm,” he announced, both an explanation and a warning, promising hell if she didn’t respect his will. 

Stephanie smiled. She didn’t raise the fact that if all Damian wanted was calm, he could have gone to the den, to the veranda or even to his own room. Instead, she let him sit at her desk and start drawing.

They stayed like that for a while. As she progressed in the book Steph had to admit Jason was right. It was good. She rarely took the time to sit up and read anything that wasn’t for her classes. These quiet moments in the manor were rare, her life all about running and moving. Sometimes, she wished she didn’t have to get hurt to get these moments. She wished the times where comfortable silence was only troubled by the sound of pen on paper and the pages turning weren’t tainted by the dull throb in her side, now that painkillers were starting to wear off.

She was just about to ask Damian if he knew where Alfred was when the kid stood up, removed the page he had just been drawing on and gave it to her before leaving the room without a word.

She took the page. On it was a drawing of herself. It was a pencil sketch, the lines looking more like a draft than the completed pieces she’d seen of Damian’s. But it was still herself, laying on what was now apparently her bed in the manor, back against the pillows, reading a book.

She felt her whole body warming for a reason that had nothing to do with her injuries. She knew how hard it was for Damian to show affection. The drawing was… it was nice. She decided to hold it close.

She was just returning to the book when Alfred entered the room, a tray full of food and medical supplies in his hands. She immediately started to get up; she wasn’t used to getting taken care of. When she was sick as a kid, she would usually take care of herself. Her mother was far from perfect, but Stephanie knew she hadn’t left her alone willingly. The result stayed the same. Her father… she didn’t want to think about her father right now. 

It took one look from Alfred for her to go back into her bed. She stayed silent as he inspected her wound. It was when he placed the tray in front of her, the smell of the food making her salivate, that she said, “You know, I can still move to the kitchen to get my share, you don’t have to come up here.”

The idea of all the inhabitants of the manor having a full lunch together every day was an idle dream. Alfred usually made enough food for an army, and everyone would come and get some at various hours of the day. 

Alfred smiled. “I know you can. But it wouldn’t be comfortable, and I want to take care of this family to the best of my ability.” 

Steph closed her eyes. There was an odd taste in her mouth that had nothing to do with the food. 

“I’m not really part of this family,” she said. It sounded weird, like she didn’t know exactly whether it was a lie or not. 

Alfred raised an eyebrow. “I assume this isn’t about blood ties. And I’d say this isn’t about legal statements either. You do know that Master Dick wasn’t officially adopted until his twenties, and that Master Jason is still dead as far as the state is concerned. Are these two not part of the family, and hadn’t they been well before and after they were officially master Bruce’s children? And, well, am I not a part of this family?”

Stephanie opened her mouth, closed it. “It’s not…” 

“It’s not the same,” Alfred agreed. “And I’ll let you decide where your place is in this house, and in this family. Just know that I can speak for everyone by saying you are very welcome, in both.” 

Stephanie felt a lump in her throat. Alfred smiled again. 

“Of course, you don’t have to decide that just now. But my door is open if you ever need to talk.” 

There was a noise at the door and the old man turned around. “Well, I’ll leave you with Miss Barbara for now, call me if you need anything.” 

With that, he was gone, and Barbara entered the room. 

“How are you feeling?” asked the older woman.

“You know,” answered Steph, “really confused by Alfred.” 

Barbara laughed. “He does have that kind of ability.”

“And stir crazy. Everyone is coming to this room, but I’m not allowed to leave it.”

Barbara made a face. “Do you want me to go away?”

Stephanie shook her head. “No, I want everyone to stop worrying so much.” 

That got a small laugh out of her mentor. “You can’t blame them. You know,” she shuddered, “Batgirl, gunshot wounds… it brings back bad memories. For me at least.” 

Steph felt cold, remembering the near-death experience of her friend. If someone had taken the spoiler name and got captured by Black Mask… she didn’t even want to think about how she would feel. 

“Well,” she said, smiling, in hope of easing the tension in the room, “it would take more than a gunshot to make me as awesome as you, all-knowing Oracle.”

Barbara laughed. Mission success then. “You’re pretty awesome on your own, Batgirl.”

Steph… didn’t know what to say to that. Barbara didn’t leave her the time to think. 

“No, seriously. You’re a good vigilante, and you’re a good person. You’re super strong, and every day, you choose to do good.” 

Steph suddenly found the bedsheets very interesting. “All of you are doing that, too.” 

“No, let me finish. My sense of justice was given to me by my father, as well as my… personal tragedies. It’s the same for everyone else. We were all made of tragedy and good mentorship. And you… you had your tragedies, but, in the beginning, you were on your own. You could have turned out very differently, and I wouldn’t have blamed you. But you chose to be who you are, and I’m so proud of you.” 

Steph smiled. “I did have some help. Tim, Cass, and, well, you. But, if all it takes is a bullet wound to have you say that kind of thing, I’m gonna get shot more often.”

Barbara made a face. “Please don’t.” Her phone pinged in that exact moment. She looked at it and grimaced. “I need to go. Take care of yourself, and Steph?” She waited until Steph gave her a questioning noise. “You’ve got my number. Don’t hesitate if you need to talk.” 

Steph smiled. Everyone kept telling her that. She wasn’t the best when it came to processing emotions, but it wasn’t like she was the worst of the family in this department.

Oh shit. 

She’d just counted herself as part of the family. 

She didn’t have time to dwell on that, because Dick entered the room, all smiles. 

“If you’re looking for Barbara, she just left,” Steph informed him. 

“I was looking for you actually,” he said sheepishly. “Heard from the big man you got yourself shot doing something reckless.” 

She laughed. “Are you here to lecture me too?”

“Oh no,” he let himself fall on the chair. “I’ve been on the other end of these lectures too many times, I know you already know everything I could tell you. I came to check on you; I’m glad you’re going to be okay.”

“Well,” she smiled, “it would take more than that to keep a Robin down.”

He gave her a laugh. “I’m sure of that.”

Sometimes, her short time as Robin felt like it wasn’t even real but seeing the original acknowledge her part in that legacy felt good. After the compliment by Barbara too, it really boosted her ego. 

“I mean, Bruce often says this when he’s angry with me or with you, but we really do look alike on some points. Did I ever tell you about the time I literally took a car protecting Donna?” 

Steph shook her head and readied herself for the story. She always liked hearing about the Titans’ adventures and she had a feeling the older vigilante wasn’t talking about driving a car.

“Ok, so. We were fighting some superpowered giant and his friends, he kept throwing stuff at us. We’re all busy, and then, all of a sudden, I see a car flying right at her. She has her back turned, she hadn’t seen it coming, and I just move. Because, you know. I can take it on my arms, minimize the damage. I didn’t think about how she’s an Amazon, and she could have brushed it off easily. And I did minimize the damage, but even with the armor and all, it’s hard to end up perfectly unscratched when you’re hit by a car thrown toward you. Anyway, I broke my left arm and a few fingers, cracked two ribs, and got a few cuts from the windshield. Nothing comparable to what a normal human would have sustained if they took it on their unprotected back. And it was nothing comparable to what Donna told me she wanted to do to me once we wrapped up the fight.”

He let out a guilty laugh at that memory. “My point is: I get it.” 

“Bruce isn’t an invulnerable Amazon,” objected Steph.

“He isn’t,” Dick agreed, something a little sad in his eyes. “And we don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t stepped up. And I perfectly understand why you stepped up. I’m sure he does too. But that doesn’t mean he can’t be angry and worried.”

Steph hummed. She got it. It was just unusual. 

She rarely thought herself as that important. 

She was loud, she was full of life. But she wasn’t important. 

She was distracted from her dark thoughts by Harper and Cullen entering the room, laptops in hands. 

“Ah, sorry if we’re bothering you,” said Cullen, already stepping out. 

“You’re not,” answered Dick. “I was just checking up on Steph, but you can come in, if you want.” 

“We found a new computer game, and we were wondering if you wanted to play with us.” 

Steph smiled. “Yeah, sure. Do you want to, Dick?” 

The oldest stood up. “I’ll pass, thanks. But can I send Tim your way? I’m afraid he’s gonna fry his brain if he keeps looking at Wayne Tech financial reports.” 

Harper snorted, probably knowing very much the rapports in question. “No problem.” 

The two of them settled into the room and started explaining the game to her. 

“Everybody is so thoughtful,” she said, somehow not managing to hide the bitterness in her voice. It was unfair, and she knew it. Harper and Cullen had nothing to do with her conflicted feelings. 

“Well, of course we are,” replied Harper, choosing to ignore the tone. 

“Sorry, it’s just… sometimes I’m not sure I deserve it.” 

“Oh, Steph,” her friend climbed on the bed, carefully giving her a hug. “You are so much deserving of it.” 

Cullen put a hand on her shoulder in agreement. Stephanie hummed. She let herself melt into the warmness of her friends. She felt like crying. She didn’t have the time to do so, because she heard the door opening. 

“Hey, I’m not interrupting something or anything?” said Tim awkwardly, from the door. “Dick told me…”

Steph untangled herself from her friend and quickly wiped her face of any stray tears. “You’re not. Come on in, we have a game to play.” 

Harper gave her a reassuring smile, saying without words what others had claimed before her. Steph could call her if she needed her. 

She let herself focus on the game after that. 

It wasn’t until after Harper and Cullen left, when Tim had settled at the desk, working on something and she had her classes back in front of her, that she said, “Babs said she was proud of me.”

Tim snorted. “She’s right,” he said flatly. “But you should let people hover.” 

Steph rolled her eyes “Oh my God, not you, too.” 

“That was scary,” he admitted without moving his eyes from the computer. “I’ve been in a world where you were dead once, I’m not doing that again.” 

Steph felt a lump in her throat. Despite their complicated history, and maybe because of their complicated history, she knew she was important to Tim. She knew her death, along with his father’s and Conner’s had been what had sent him spiraling, all those years ago. She knew he was still battling the consequences. And yes, she knew he had considered using the pit. But she wasn’t about to bring it up. It was one of the unspoken rules among Gotham vigilantes: things that were admitted under fear toxin shouldn’t be considered as being said. It didn’t mean she could forget it. 

She could laugh about the admission, like she had with Jason, but somehow, that didn’t seem like the right thing to do. 

“I’m here,” she said instead. “And none of you are letting me out of your sight anytime soon, if I understand well.” 

Tim laughed. “No, we’re not.”

“Hi Steph, Tim.” 

Both of them turned toward Duke, who was standing at the door. 

“How was day patrol?” asked Tim. 

Duke stretched his arms above his head. “Slow. I left you the updates on the case we were working on the other day downstairs.”

Tim nodded, then packed up his laptop. “I guess this is my clue to get ready for my own patrol, then.” 

“Be careful, Boy Wonder,” said Steph. “We wouldn’t want two Robins injured and stuck in here.” 

Tim smiled. “I always am. You would be too happy if I were to keep you company.” 

“That bored, huh?” asked Duke. “Can I stay with you then?” 

“Sure.” Steph showed the room with her arm. “Make yourself at home.” 

Just as Duke was sitting next to her, Bruce appeared at the door. He stayed there for a few seconds, silently, before grunting and leaving. 

“He’s so weird,” Steph stage-whispered to Duke. The man laughed. 

“Fathers are weird. Family is complicated,” she admitted. 

Duke snorted. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

Steph wanted to laugh. If anyone could understand her situation, it was Duke. Of course, their history was very different. Duke’s father was, well, has been a good man. But then his other father was an immortal, which was an all-new kind of weird, and there was Bruce, who was yet again another father figure. Yeah, Duke could understand how complicated it was. Plus, she knew that he’d never given up on trying to reverse his parent’s fate. 

Her own father was rotting away in Black Gate. She told herself she’d given up on him a long time ago. 

Arthur Brown didn’t deserve her putting herself in front of the bullet for him, but deep down, she didn’t know if she would do it. 

She didn’t know if Bruce Wayne deserved her putting herself in front of a bullet for him. But she knew that she did. 

But enough of these thoughts. 

“All right, tell me about your case with Tim.” 

“You’re sure? I thought you were forbidden from vigilante work.”

Steph rolled her eyes. “Come on, it’s not like anyone is here. I’m not gonna strain myself by listening to you and giving advice.” 

It was all the push Duke needed to start talking.

She’d apparently fallen asleep listening to him, because the next thing she knew, it was dark, she was alone and there was a note next to her bed, saying: “ _Hopefully it was the painkillers and not how boring I was that made you sleep. Get well soon._ ”

She smiled. And then immediately pretended to be asleep when she heard a sound in the corridor. 

Bruce entered the room. He’d probably just come back from patrol and decided to add himself to her long list of visitors for the day. She stayed silent as he moved into the room and sat on the bed. 

He seemed hesitant, his hand hovering above her head, like he was unsure whether or not he should pet her hair, as she’d seen him do with Cass or Tim several times. But their relationship wasn’t the same. There were a lot of unsaid things between them. 

He sighed. 

“I was a fool,” he said in a low voice. “I thought… well, I was worried about any other kid putting themselves in front of a bullet for me. Not you. I now realize I was a fool.” 

Stephanie stayed silent, recognizing the moment for what it was. He thought she was asleep and shared what he couldn’t say to her while she was awake. 

He sighed. 

“I don’t want you, any of you, to put yourself in danger for me and I don’t…”

There was a choked sound, and Stephanie decided it was too much. She opened her eyes. 

“We will, old man, whether you like it or not. You’re not the boss of me, and I’ll put myself in danger whenever I want to.”

Several emotions crossed Bruce’s face, and yeah. That was way too many emotions for Bruce Wayne. One was already too many. 

“Oh, come on,” said Stephanie, turning so she was on her back, facing him. “If you want to do a cuddle party where we all share our feelings, at least invite the others, they’ve been waiting for it all day.” 

Bruce grunted. Stephanie smiled.

For now, she was having fun. She could figure out later what a home meant. What a family meant.

What a father meant.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked the story, I thank JustJellyJackal for beta-reading!


End file.
